Love's Divine
by Kaara
Summary: Drowning in one reality. Tied to one past. Trying to break away. NaruIno, NejiIno. TwoShot.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Love's Divine.

**By:** Kaara.

**Genre:** Angst/Romance.

**Disclaimer:** All the Naruto characters belongs to Kishimoro-sensei. Although they wanted to be mine, the law cruelly states otherwise.

**Warning:** Characters' death. Angsting. OOCness, because of the major change in time frame.

Set in the midst of war.

xxx

**Love's Divine**

xxx

She remembered the day they had first met as adults. It was years after their graduation from the Academy, though it felt as though the day had just passed. She had not seen him when she was promoted to a chuunin; when others from their year were there to receive the vests, he wasn't. He was always absence. Always the one that was left behind. There were glimpses, but never a proper meeting. She had almost forgotten how he looked, if it weren't for those yellowing pictures inside the many albums she had kept at home. It was a sweltering hot summer day, and Ino had a special, reserved spot over the grassy bank of Konoha River. She would spend the whole evening staring into the dark, murky depth of the crawling river and not think about life as it was. She was not a shinobi, there was no war, she did not have a cold bastard as a boyfriend and that cold bastard was not dead.

Sometimes, she would find herself thinking, life is easier as a fantasy. A dream.

And a single tear would escape the corner of her right eye.

Only one. Always. More was not allowed.

One evening, that hot, sweltering summer evening, she saw him. Maybe it was the burning sun, or maybe her eyes were playing a cruel trick on her but he seemed so... real. A pathetic excuse for a description but when your world was crumbling slowly into a pile of meaningless dust, there was no room for even a speck of doubt. Or hesitation. There she was, sitting besides the lazy river, looking up towards the golden-haired youth that was leaning over a nearby bridge. The same bridge where she had met that cold bastard of hers for midnight rendezvous. The bastard would have most probably been cold inside the dirty soil too, because he was by then dead. So very dead.

And she was alive. So very alive.

And Naruto was still standing there, like he was waiting...

Waiting, for her.

Ino took one last look at the river (still blue, still unchanging) and she slowly stood up. There were bits of grass in her ponytailed hair and her light purple dress was badly creased but Ino knew that she looked good. She always looked good. Even when she was fighting in life-and-death duels. Even when she had her cold bastard's blood splattered all over her face. Even when her mascara was ruined because of the tears streaming, mingling with the blood. So, she told herself, it's okay to approach him. You look good. He'll notice you this time. Even if it was only because of your looks. He'll notice you.

The bridge was only three feet away, and so was Naruto. He was staring at something, far beyond the horizon and his eyes were slightly glazed, layers of blue coating the irises. He seemed, for that one split second, out of reach. Like some kind of a divine creature, or the sky itself. Ino halted after a few steps, unsure whether to continue or to abandon the hope. Her hope. But when Naruto suddenly blinked and snapped out of whatever trance he was in, he looked real again. The glazed look disappeared, and those layers of blue appeared to be ablazed with an intriguing image of liquid fire. And she breathed again, moving her legs forward.

Two steps away from him and she stopped. She knew that he had already sensed her presence, from the small inclination of his body towards her and the hand that rested ever so lightly over a weaponry pouch. She knew those little gestures; she had only so often donned them during missions. Had she come with murderous intent, she had no doubt that her neck would've been sliced through in one clean stroke before she could even lift a finger. Her admiration grew, sprinkles of respect showering the little seed that had wormed its way into her heart. It was a careful, calculated move, the way of the experienced.

Both were motionless.

She took the rare opportunity to examine him, allowing her eyes to feast upon the sight. She was still taller than him (Ino never recalled Naruto being taller than anyone), but only by a few inches. The first thing that she had noticed about him was that his old carefree attitude had been replaced by deep fatigue, of one that was fighting a losing battle. The face was slightly haggard, spiky head appeared to be a tad droopy. Those whisker marks (she remembered them from their genin days) were no more than jagged stripes on broken skin. She puzzled over these for a few seconds, before she lifted her head and was captured by a pair of blue, blue eyes.

And she was drowning... drowning... drowning...

"Ino?"

A whiff of cold air, and the faint scent of chrysanthemum teased her nose. She choked and her hands instinctively curled around the base of her throat.

Suffocating...

"Hey, are you okay?"

Her hands were not listening to the rapid impulses from her brain to let go, to wave aside the curiously worried voice that could only belong to Naruto. She could only stare, the sensation of drowning, suffocating intensified as seconds fluttered by. Her heart was pounding madly, ramming frenziedly against her ribcage, her chest. Blood pumped towards her head. The world was spinning, the colours around her mixing like that on an artist's palate and she felt, rather than see, two strong arms circling themselves around her waist as she started to fall forward.

And then... there was darkness.

xxx

"- found her by the riverside -"

"- depression. Someone close died -"

"- another shinobi or -"

"- relationship. That Hyuuga boy -"

"- it Neji? I heard about the mission -"

"- felt sorry for her. Godaime-sama -"

"- wish her well, but I have to go. Late -"

"- understand, Uzumaki-san. Thank you for -"

"- avoid the river. It's close to the border and -"

"- know that someone had been attacked. But -"

"- favourite spot? Why would -"

"- met each other there. Every night -"

"- then take care of her, Yamanaka-senpai."

"Thank you, again."

"Don't mention it."

The doors creaked close, sounds of conversation and muted footsteps slowly faded away and Ino opened her eyes. The mattress was soft beneath her numb body and the blanket was comfortably warm.

Ino yearned for her cold bastard's icy touch.

xxx

The next time Ino saw Naruto, a week had passed. She was back in active duty and their paths crossed for the second time inside the administrative building. She had just came back from a mission in the Sand Village with her teammates; Shikamaru and a female chuunin named Enrai, torn and extremely exhausted from the long journey. The mission report felt heavy in her calloused hand and her mouth was unusually dry, even though she had just drained a canteen of water seconds ago. Enrai was leaning onto her shoulder for support, breathing heavily and clutching a broken arm. The chuunin was later carried off to the adjoined hospital by an alarmed team of Medic nins when she informed them that they had been attacked in their way back. Shikamaru simply patted her back and sauntered off towards the cafeteria, a slight limp marring his otherwise fluid movement.

It was yet another hot, sweltering summer evening.

The chuunin that was manning the desk accepted her manila folder with a quiet 'Thank You' and busied himself with the usual procedure of flipping through papers, stamping a glaring red 'Approved' over them and tossed the folder on top of other similar ones. No excessive words of encouragement, or even a warm smile for a job well done. It was part of the routine, part of the continuous cycle of being tools of killing. Ino suddenly missed Iruka-sensei, the always smiling, warm Academy teacher. Always kind, always gentle Iruka-sensei. Always with a word or two for his ex-students, even if they had exceeded him in ranks. Such a pity that they lost him in the war. The genins that he had saved still brought flowers to the cenotaph everyday. Ino knew, because she sold those blooming petals to them.

And she always placed a single stalk of crysanthemum on top of the white roses.

Iruka-sensei liked colours. White was much too barren.

Ino stood silently before the mission desk, staring at the young chuunin (dark hair, pasty face, slightly pointed nose and a peculiar sort of lips) as he went through numerous other folders that kept on building inside the 'In' tray. She was actually thinking about Iruka-sensei. It had been some time since she last thought about her ex-teacher. Simply because that would remind her to the fact that Iruka-sensei was dead. As dead as her dead cold bastard. And she didn't want to think about her dead cold bastard.

Because it hurts so much.

Her heart hurts so much.

"Can I help you, Yamanaka-san?"

The chuunin had looked up and was scowling at her in the most unbecoming of ways. Rude. She pursed her lips and shook her head. "No."

With that short, clipped answer, Ino turned to escape the overbearing confine of the building, only to find herself nose-to-nose with that one object of her current fascination. Naruto looked just as surprised as she was, his mouth half-closed and his eyes a fraction wider what was usual. There was a smudge of dried blood on the bare skin of his left cheek, and several dark stains on his forest green jounin vest. He had been out in a battlefield, just as she had.

The eyes finally returned to their original state and he solemnly acknowledged, "Ino."

"Naruto." The name sounded so foreign to her ears. She took a step back, creating a distance between them. It was never a good thing to be too close to anyone. "I didn't see you there."

"You couldn't have, unless you have an eye at the back of your head or something," his voice was light and the statement was meant to be taken as a joke. But as soon as the words slipped through his lips, both shinobi almost immediately stiffened.

The implication rang loudly in Ino's ears.

Byakugan could've succeeded that feat quite easily.

Naruto stared at her. Ino stared back.

"Aa... you're right," she surprised herself at how calm and steady her voice was. Lifting the corner of her mouth into a dry smile, she sidestepped the blonde and dipped her head into a short bow. "I have to go. Nice to see you, Naruto."

A hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her left wrist, squeezing old scars that lined the flesh. She lashed her free hand towards her attacker out of reflex, twisting the captured one violently from the firm grasp. She heard the sharp swish of wind against her sensitive ears, her fingers automatically slipping out three metal needles from a hidden compartment of her vest and she jumped backwards, crouching close to the cold floor, senses sharp as a panther on the hunt. Her eyes were narrowed at Naruto, who was standing rigidly in the middle of the room. Their eyes met again, and the liquid heat almost overwhelmed her for the second time. The realization jolted her back to reality; this was not an enemy. She was not out there in the war.

The needles clattered noisily onto the polished floor.

"Ino, it's okay," he muttered softly, advancing forward and talking to her as if she was a wounded animal. She caught sight of the young chuunin, who was half-standing from his seat, a look of utter bewilderment on his pasty face. Naruto paused, laying a hand gently on her stiff shoulder. "Let's get something to eat. Then, we can talk."

She opened her mouth to retort, to protest but thoughtfully closed it again a second later. The warm hand guided her out of the building and into the bright shower of sunlight. Ino shielded her face with an arm, squinting up at the blinding sun. The white hotness stung her eyes and she quickly looked down, at the dry, dusty ground and wilting flowers. Summer was always the most dreaded season; Konoha seemed almost dead from the heat. They walked together in silence, his hand no longer resting on her shoulder but had moved down to clutch loosely at her wrist, like he was afraid that she would run off into the unknown once he let go. Ino recalled looking down at the protective curl of his fingers and smiling.

It had been years since anyone held her like that.

Surprisingly, Naruto had picked a cosy, air-conditioned little restaurant for their outing, instead of his usual obsession on one particular ramen stand. He slinked into a rather hidden booth, dragging her along. The fluidity in which he moved around the vicinity of that restaurant reeked of familiarity. She doubted that it was his first time there. The menu was a small, handwritten affair, with clover green hard cover and gold-tinted edges. Her eyes roved over what it offered, and both shinobi carried out this action in a comfortable silence. A bouquet of tulips and carnations was placed in a quaint china vase on the table, besides an ashtray. A line of miniature china spotted ducks was the only other form decoration that ornamented their table. Simplicity was obviously the main theme of this restaurant.

A middle-aged redhead, with freckled cheeks and a wide, toothy smile bounced towards them, notepad and pen in hand. "Good evening!" Her smiled widened when she saw Naruto and a spark of glee twinkled in her merry grey eyes. "Uzumaki-kun, how nice to see you today!" The eyes twinkled some more when they scanned Ino's lithe form, nodding her head vigorously, like an overgrown, satisfied mother hen. "And you even bring along your pretty girlfriend to our small restaurant. How romantic!"

"Miura, she's not my girlfriend," Naruto's voice floated into her eardrums, cool and collected. Ino wondered briefly how many years have passed since she last saw him. She didn't remember the Naruto that she knew sounded so... calm.

Maybe it was the war. War changed people.

War changed her.

Her grip on the menu unconsciously tightened.

"I'll have a bowl of plain soba," the cool voice once again penetrated her muddled thought, pushing away dark, grey clouds of the past. To her, the voice was like a breeze of fresh wind, with the faint scent of mint and snow-covered mountains.

Ino liked mountains. And snow.

She silently counted the days until winter arrives.

"Ino?" Her head automatically jerked upwards, irritating a nerve at the back of her neck. Noticing that Miura was waiting patiently for her order, she willed her lips to curve into a small smile and said, "Water."

Naruto arched an eyebrow. "Not hungry?"

"No. I just need some water," she defiantly stated. Miura nodded and skipped off, her auburn curls jauntily bouncing against her plump shoulder. Her eyes followed the jolly figure until it disappeared behind the counter, and she turned her attention back to her companion. To Naruto's questioning gaze, she elaborated, "The Sand was too dry for my taste."

The blonde shook his head and smirked. "I'll forward that information to Gaara."

She chose not to reply.

"So," the light tone darkened slightly, the lines of his eyes and mouth more pronounced than before. Naruto suddenly looked every bit of a man who had experienced twenty seven years of pain and death that he is. His long, tapered fingers were touched together, at the calloused tips. "What's wrong?"

She ignored the question. Instead of answering, she asked another, "Where have you been?"

From the crease of his forehead, she knew that he was not pleased by her lack of response. Nevertheless, he retorted, "Here and there. Been doing some dirty job for the Hokage. You're better off not knowing."

"Thought you said you're going to be one." His ambition was as loud as he was, when they were genins. But now, the loud boy was gone, and a tired young man sat in front of her. Reality, she bitterly ruminated, was too cruel and harsh.

He smiled. Humourlessly. "Won't happen anywhere near next century, I assure you. Too many people in the Council is oppose to the idea. Maybe its the height. Too short for the robe."

She had to resist the urge to slap his face for that stupid remark. Of course she knew why they hated, loathed, despised him. Of course she knew. "It's the Kyuubi, isn't it?"

The reaction was immediate. Blue eyes, very unlike hers, widened. Chapped lips thinned and were bared into some sort of a feral snarl. Fingers flexed threateningly on the table. And those whisker marks... they seemed aglow with passion. And hatred. His voice had lost all its minty, snowy illusion and now rang with deadly vehemence, spitting out one single word, "How?"

The piercing eyes made her wearier. "Kakashi."

His expression turned pure homicidal. "He told you-"

"Yes and no."

"Don't answer in riddles," he snarled and his fingers twitched subtly, like he was trying to restrain himself from attacking her. A sharp intake of breathe and Naruto had leaned back, stiffly. "Did Kakashi tell you or not?"

"I delved into his memory." It always made her uncomfortable to talk about her secret mind jutsu, afraid that someone would steal it away from her. Like other things that she used to own in life. She trained her eyes onto the immaculate cream table cloth, unable to meet Naruto's penetrating gaze. "He was hallucinating after another encounter with Uchiha Itachi and they ordered me to... go into his mind and find out the cause. Try to stop it if I can."

"But you can't resist the temptation to nose around, can you?"

Ino hated that voice now. Hated it. "It was the Sharingan and I couldn't do anything with my current level. So, I tried to approach the source of brain waves from different angles. And one of the doors..." she paused and finally looked up. "Do you know what human mind consists of, Naruto?"

The blond in question shrugged, eyes still threateningly narrowed.

She ignored the lack of response. "It's like walking along an endless corridor, with countless doors lining the wall. These doors lead to different sections of the mind, and are sub-consciously guarded depending on how important the sections they hide. Most of them are memories, random or not. Mind Walkers, like me, often enter through a small opening, a crack provided by a spot of weakness and once we're inside, the mind is ours to roam. Of course, it also depends on how strong the Mind Walker is; whether he or she has sufficient mental strength to break the protective barriers over the doors and invade the selected memories. Sometimes, there are doors that wouldn't budge even after numerous attempts."

"And how strong was the door that hid my secret inside Kakashi's mind?" questioned Naruto, eyes probing and searching.

"One of the most heavily-guarded doors that I've ever seen," she answered with a sigh. She still shivered every time she remembered the blood red door, thick chain and giant padlocks securing its surface, warning unwanted trespassers away. It emanated some kind of hostile aura, a mist of danger hovering above the door. "It took me almost half an hour to pry it open. One inch, that was all that I managed to do and I had drained three-quarter of my chakra. And the first memory that I found was about... your secret."

Silence.

Silence.

A clock somewhere to her left chimed loudly.

Silence.

Silence.

Finally, "Does Kakashi know that you know?"

Ino snorted. "He should; he booted me out as soon as I closed my link to the door. Kakashi is remarkably stable-minded; the only reason why I could go into his mind at that time was because he had let his guard down under the assault of Uchiha's Tsukuyomi. We don't talk about it, if that's what you're worried about."

"It doesn't bother me anymore," said Naruto, his tone returning to its usual flatness. He fingered his whisker marks, Ino's eyes following the rather gentle caress. It made her wonder if he had ever held anyone that gently. "I've come to accept that fact." His eyes caught hers in a searching gaze. "Aren't you afraid, repulsed, when you found out about this?"

She breathed in deeply and held the gaze. "No."

The laughter that greeted her answer was coarse and painfully mocking. "No, huh? That's new. You're one of the few that didn't kick me out of their lives because of that damned demon."

"I didn't kick you out of my life simply because you weren't there in the first place."

It was Naruto's turn to stare at Ino in surprise.

She tiredly avoided his eyes.

"Order's up," came the cheerful exclamation of one waitress, a bowl of soba and a glass of sparkling clear water placed neatly in front of the two. Perhaps sensing the uncomfortable silence that resided over the atmosphere, Miura said nothing more. With a final glance at her customers, she discreetly retreated, shaking her head as she went along.

Naruto picked up his bowl and dipped a pair of chopsticks inside the clear broth. "I'll walk you home after we finished."

Ino took a sip from her glass.

xxx

It annoyed her; the silence and the half-spoken words. The brief conversation that they had in the restaurant seemed to have a lingering effect, making the journey home painfully uneventful. They barely exchanged greeting as Naruto stood stoically in front of the Yamanaka residence, his blue eyes cold and unfeeling. That somehow made Ino content, because her cold bastard was anything but warm. There were pieces of the past that imbedded themselves deeper into her memory than others; more vivid flashes of images or clearer snippets of conversations. Exchanges of touches in the darkness. Embracing words. Those rushed into his mind, resonating and intensifying into an unbearable level. She suddenly felt the urge to touch.

And touch she did.

It was a light, fleeting brush of lips against lips. Cold against cold.

Naruto jerked back instinctively after what it felt to be eternity. His fingers were instantly on his mouth, eyes wide and no longer cold, no longer unfeeling. They were confused. And scared. Angry, even. "What--"

"See you later," she interjected, as though she had done nothing wrong. The doorknob was pleasantly cool wrapped by her long fingers, and the door opened without a sound. Someone must've oiled the hinges lately; most probably her father. She remembered it creaking quite ominously when she departed for her mission three days ago. Naruto was still staring at her with that shocked expression on his face, though he shortly disappeared behind the closed door.

Ino trudged upstairs, her steps slow and weary. The house was empty, shrouded by shadows and grey corners. Somehow, even the place she called home reflected her life. It was ironic, really. Her fingers reached towards the back of her head, working on the knot that held up her short ponytail. It was perfectly natural for her to not explain her actions; it was no more than two pairs of lips touching. No emotion was involved, just the need to touch. Just that. Should there be more encapsulated inside the gesture, it was lost to her.

She was already too far gone.

Drowning in her own reality.

Ino paused in front of the bathroom and shed her dirty uniform, pale hair cascading down her bony shoulders. Scars lined her colourless skin, some old and white. Some fresh and burning red.

She was drowning, and there was no one there to help her.

She should really learn how to swim.

**TBC**

One more part to go. I'll post it tomorrow or the day after.

**Kaara.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Love's Divine. 

**By:** Kaara.

**Genre:** Angst/Romance.

**Disclaimer:** All the Naruto characters belongs to Kishimoro-sensei. Although they wanted to be mine, the law cruelly states otherwise.

**Warning:** Characters' death. Angsting. OOCness, because of the major change in time frame.

Set in the midst of war.

xxx

**Love's Divine**

xxx

He found her the day before the Summer Festival.

She was sitting on the ledge of the opened window in her bedroom, looking down at the bustling crowd down below. There was a faint trace of smoke in the air and he noticed an ashtray full of cigarette butts besides her. There was a half-finished cigarette dangling from her slender fingers, the red tip burning brightly when she took a long drag. The bed looked as though nobody slept on it last night and he suspected that he was right in that particular deduction from the state of her pale golden hair; untied and unkempt. Her blue shirt and dark jeans were badly creased. She barely acknowledged his presence, except for a tired glance towards the doorway. Towards him.

"I didn't know that you smoked," Naruto remarked carelessly, regarding the shadow of a remarkably strong woman he thought he knew. He took a step inside the bleak room. Several lonely rays of sunlight impaled the floor from what little space she allowed open, particles of dust rising from the parqueted surface.

"You know nothing about me then."

He took another step. And stared at the bones jutting from underneath the pallid skin of her shoulder. "It's not good for your health."

Ino snorted. "Tell Asuma that."

"And we all know what happened to him," the young man softly said, taking in the details of the sparsely decorated room. The rocking chair looked that it was in desperate need of a paint job.

As well as everything else inside there.

"At least he didn't get his head busted in the war," came the reply, laced with an indiscernable tinge of bitterness. She shifted slightly, before inhaling on the nicotine stick deeply. "You left him those flowers, didn't you?"

Naruto lifted his eyes from his brief examination of the cracks on the floor and knitted his brows at the question. "How'd you know that?"

"Elimination process," there was dark amusement flavouring her voice. "Kurenai's dead, Chouji's missing, Shikamaru would just say that it's too troublesome and I always bring tulips for Asuma." She tilted her head and spared him a small grin. "Besides, you're the only one who bought two dozens of sunflowers from our shop last week. It's not that hard to piece together."

"Tsunade told me that the cancer got him when I came back from the Mist," he eyed the lines of despair that marred her face and felt a deep ache throbbing somewhere in his chest. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

He wanted to say that it was not only for Asuma's unfortunate demise, but the words died at the tip of his tongue. Instead, he averted his eyes from Ino and regarded a collage of fading photographs pinned onto the wall. He could see Iruka-sensei smiling at him with a hand ruffling Konohamaru's hair. Shikamaru smirking at Chouji from across a go board. A widely grinning Asuma and Team Ten when Ino and Chouji finally made chuunins. Memories from time immemorial. There was an empty space in between pictures of laughing faces, and somehow, Naruto knew who was missing. He surprised himself when he felt a flare of jealousy at the thought. Would anyone missed him that much if he died? Would there be a girl mourning for him like Ino was doing?

No.

No one.

Hyuuga fucking Neji just got lucky.

"I heard you applied for ANBU."

He could see the corner of Ino's lips stretched into a humourless smile. "Words got around fast in the department, isn't it?"

"Walls have ears, I suppose," he retorted, carefully watching her reaction. Or rather, the lack of it. "Why?"

"I'm qualified," her reply was accompanied with an indifferent shrug. She raised the cigarette to her lips and took another long drag.

Naruto shook his head as Ino puffed out columns of greyish white smoke. "What will happen to Team Ten?"

"Shikamaru's been appointed the Head for Intelligence yesterday and Enrai..." he saw something flickered in her eyes; desperation. And deep sorrow. "She's dead. Some Sound jounins caught up on her at the border when she went on a routine investigation. So I guess she wouldn't have any problem with me breaking up the team."

He mentally winced at the tone of her voice.

Too much death, too close to her.

A sudden gust of wind made Ino's hair whipped around her face, erratic strands of bleached gold parting to reveal a scar running almost halfway across the back of her neck, the ruined flesh a stark contrast against her pale skin. She had probably noticed him staring at the scar, as she gently placed a hand over it and stared at him from her comfortable position. There was an unspoken agreement reached upon eye-contact; he was in no place to ask about the mark. He understood the message perhaps too perfectly. He was a stranger in her eyes. Ino raked her hair into place with her fingers; her touch lingered for an extra second on the covered scar, before turning her attention back to the darkening sky. It seemed as though he had lost her yet again to something that only she could see and hear and touch and feel. Something divine.

He thought that he had changed throughout the years.

He had seen his friends changing too, maturing.

But this young woman before him...

This woman was not Yamanaka Ino.

Not the Ino that he remembered.

How many years have passed since their genin days?

Naruto closed his eyes, the ache in his chest intensifying with each second that he spent being with the other blonde. Pain. Suffering. Loss. Similarities that they shared. It was as if he was staring at his own reflection, as if he was back in his apartment with its cracked mirror and bottles of painkillers. Alone, always alone. There were the occasional one night stands, but that only made him felt more lonely afterwards, sharing his bed with someone whose face and name he would forget the next day. He took another step forward, eyes locked on the frail figure lounging against the window pane. He wondered if she felt cold at night too, like he did. Wondered if she had lived with the shadows all these years, instead of sunshine. If she was still living with the ghost of the past. If she had cried at night, dreaming about what Death had taken from her.

Or if she was also slowly drowning...

Like him.

Suffocating.

Like him.

She didn't even look up when he stood silently besides her. Didn't even express an ounce of surprise when he touched her jaw, tilting her face towards him. There was resignation in her grey blue eyes, acceptance of what reality had done for her. To her. Gone was the lively twinkles that he usually associated with her presence. Gone was the loudmouthed, radiant girl that he had left behind all those years. Replaced by an empty, broken shell of a human. He didn't even shatter her cool composure when he wordlessly pressed his lips against her, tasting the frighteningly cold sensation that was uniquely Ino.

Cold against cold.

Terrifying.

"What was that for?" she asked once he withdrew, eyeing him with no amount of emotion.

He willed a small smile to decorate his face. "Just returning the favour."

She was still sitting on the ledge when he left her.

Staring out of the window.

xxx

They found her four days after her promotion.

He had looked down at the motionless beautiful face, caked with dried blood and mud, and wondered if she was finally at peace. Glazed, lifeless grey blue eyes looked up at him from sunken face. He knelt down and slowly traced a hand across her still face, brushing off dirt and leaves from her damp hair. Her skin felt oddly cold underneath his fingers, though it made little difference compared to when she was still breathing. He dare not call her alive before; some people are dead even before their hearts have stopped beating. She was one of them. He slowly turned her around and undid the knot of head protecter around her narrow waist, sliding the piece of clothed metal into one of the compartments of his vest. The dog tag was next, followed by her cracked vixen mask. Carefully, he laid her back onto the muddy ground and stood up.

He remembered the taste of her lips against his as he watched the flames angrily consumed her.

And the smile etched on her lips when he first found her mangled body amidst the dead.

**END**

... No comment.

**Kaara**


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